


Primus inter Pares

by Corinne K (Corinne_K)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-02-29 23:37:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18788572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corinne_K/pseuds/Corinne%20K
Summary: Curtis boards the Atlas and sets off on the adventure of his lifetime. He doesn't expect to attract the attention of his much admired captain.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So here's a little pre-relationship Shurtis.  
> Now submitted to the Curtashi Week of Firsts (Day 6 - first night together) - for chapter 2.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Sometimes, Curtis thinks, it is truly hard to believe that Captain Takashi Shirogane is a human being like himself... Times like these, when the captain with the glowing shoulder is jumping off the Atlas in a space suit to break into an enemy spaceship... or later on, when they all watch helpless as the captain engages a big scary alien in an orbital hand to hand wrestling match on top of the same enemy space ship, as it free falls towards the ground.

Once he's done with all that, he jumps right back to the bridge and transforms the gigantic spaceship into a gigantic mecha that he controls with his mind.

_Definitely not human._

The battle rages on. When it comes to a close and the Voltron lions fall to the ground, the captain watches the scene with a haunted look and standsempty and worn out at the bridge, as they bring the Atlas back to Earth. When they are safely docked, he collapses.

“Curtis, take the captain to the med bay, fast!” Veronica shouts. The instruction brushes off the fringes of his consciousness before it has the intended effect and Curtis springs into action. He wraps an arm around the captain’s waist and pulls a bulky arm over his shoulder. He smells sweat and blood and feels an irregular vibration coursing through the heavy body. He hears them, faint and muffled by bravery, the sounds of his humanity.

_The captain is definitely human, but he’s the first among his peers._

* * *

 

Through his formative years and well into his adult life, Curtis has always been a quiet guy. He’s the kind of person who stands in the sidelines and blends with the crowd, who can be nearly invisible. He’ plain and boring, but he’s come to terms with it. He likes it that way. By staying out of the spotlight he can enjoy company without the pressure of leading or entertaining. Before the war, he had a tight-knit group of friends. Now... well, now he has the Atlas crew. Veronica, Commander Iverson, Acxa, Captain Shirogane... and the future of Earth on his shoulders.

It doesn’t bother him that, after their return from that first mission on the Atlas, after the period of preparation and through to their launch into the long voyage to liberate the universe, his interactions with the captain have remained strictly professional. It’s just the way things are. He has been selected to fulfil a duty and there is nothing more to be expected. Any camaraderie or bonds that may be formed are fortunate byproducts of their mission.

Thus, it comes as an utter surprise when, as he’s walking down one of Atlas’s halls, heading towards the mess, a seemingly disembodied metallic arm lands on his shoulder. He turns back to find the man himself, looking him in the eyes.

“Senior officer, may I have a quick word with you?”

“Yes, Sir,” he replies swiftly, and lets himself be led down the same hall, at a leisurely pace.

“I want to thank you,” Shirogane says in his commanding tone, “for uncovering the ghost communication and saving Voltron... for saving my friends.” The last part comes out softer, warmer.

“It was no more than my duty. If anything, I should have caught it earlier,” he replies.

He truly feels this is an undeserved praise, so he lowers his eyes, waiting to be dismissed.

“Senior-“ the captain pauses, “Curtis? Can I address you like that? I’ve been working with teenagers and goofy aliens for a while, I think I got used to the informal treatment...”

He's genuinely surprise that the captain knows his first name. He doesn't ask for reciprocity, but accepts the small token of proximity.

“Certainly, Sir.”

The captain clears his throat, then says his name again. 

“Curtis," It sends a jolt of electricity down his spine, "I know I haven’t been as close to the crew as I would like. It’s been quite a ride and I think you are wise enough to expect things to get even worse going forward... but I want you to know that I am aware of everyone’s efforts and I’m floored by the dedication and excellence all of you have shown.”

“Sir, I...” Curtis is speechless. Being at the receiving end of this kind of praise is not something he’s used to, even if it’s kind of directed at the whole crew...?

He’s probably making a weird face. He schools himself back to what he figures is a neutral expression. The captain chuckles.

“So you’re the humble type, huh? Well, don’t take it from me, then, take it from the Olkari Tech. Compliments from foes are not that easy to come by.”

And with that, Shirogane shoots him a quick salute and leaves. He might have imagined it, but Curtis can swear that there’s a spring in the captain’s step as he walks down the hall.

* * *

 

And so the days pile up in their long journey through space. Everyone keeps busy while Voltron and the MFEs retrieve the Altean pilots one by one. For how new this mission is to them all, a sense of routine gradually settles in. Their days are structured. There is time to sleep, to eat and to work. There is a limited range of activities one can engage in outside those basic functions. Keeping fit is vital when challenges strike, so they workout without miss, even though the pilots have higher physical demands, and are the ones most often seen in the training room.

Curtis likes to come in early, before it gets crowded, and once again before bed time, mostly to stretch. It’s during one of those sessions that the captain approaches him again. He’s doing leg stretches on the floor, when he notices someone unrolling a rubber mat by his side.

“Mind if I join?”

Shirogane is in a black tank top and leggings and Curtis catches a glimpse of where his metal shoulder meets flesh. He feels a pang in the chest, something unexplainable and deeply melancholic.

“Please.”

They proceed in silence, Curtis with another set of lazy sun salutations and the captain with a painful-looking forward bend. His joints crack, he grunts.

“Captain,” Curtis ventures, “how often have you been stretching?”

Shirogane gives him a side glance. “Not often enough, it seems.”

“Please take it easy.”

The man nods and goes back to his stretch. Curtis eventually runs out of muscles to soften and starts to roll up his mat. That’s when he hears his name in the captain’s mouth, a soft plea.

“Curtis... Could you give me a hand? Won’t take long…”

“Sure,” he answers, perhaps a bit too fast. _Too eager._

“I think standing at the bridge is taking a toll on my lower back. Think you can push my leg down while I twist?”

He nods. The captain lies down on his back and rolls into a twist, left leg going over to his right side. Curtis kneels gingerly on that side, places one hand on the flesh-and-bone left shoulder, and pushes the captain’s knee down with the other. The captain closes his eyes and grits his teeth. Curtis’ heart races. They repeat it on the other side. It’s somewhat looser and Shirogane seems more at ease.

“How do you feel?”

“Better, but my whole left leg is stiff.”

“It might be your sciatic nerve. Lie on your belly?”

The way he poses that question, and the roguish look Shirogane gives him in response sends blood to his face and somewhere lower. He looks away. The captain rolls over. He takes a deep breath because what he’s about to do is worse than any innuendo. He joins his hands and presses down the center of a (very round and muscled) buttock. He kneads there, finds the pressure spot, kneads some more. He hears a low grunt. He tries to tune it out for the sake of his reputation.

“There,” the captain says with a whimper, “if you press right there the pain goes away.”

“Good." He gives it another squeeze, then releases. "You might want to see a physio for this, Sir. Do you have an acuball?”

But Shirogane doesn’t answer, he just hums and his mouth draws into a small contented smile.

“Where did you learn how to do this? Your hands feel really good.”

It flashes through his mind that if someone were to enter the gym at this time, they would find the captain of the Atlas lying below a very flustered comms officer, the only thing preventing the latter from sitting on the captain’s bottom being a currently very wobbly knee. He scatters the thought and answers-

“My grandmother, Sir. I’m Thai from my mother’s side.”

“Oh.” Grey eyes shoot open and there’s something curious there that soon turns sheepish. “So that’s it. I've been wondering...”

He doesn’t want to process the fact that, for some reason, the captain has been thinking about his heritage. He gives the thigh a final rub and helps the captain up. They say their good nights.

_What was this all about._

* * *

 

The next time they talk outside the control room, Shirogane asks him, in what Curtis can only qualify as a somewhat bashful way, if he could _“perhaps, please, if it’s not a bother”_ give him another massage. Curtis promptly agrees.

The captain’s pod is small, just enough to fit a bed, a desk and a clothes compartment, and everything about it gives out a sense of spartan solitude. Curtis spots three small photo frames side by side on the desk. Shirogane is in all three, at different ages - a serious-looking boy sitting in between an Asian couple in the first one, a young black-haired officer standing shoulder to shoulder with another young officer - Lieutenent Wolf, if he recalls correctly - in the other, and a seasoned fighter with a metallic arm and a white forelock, along with the Voltron crew, in the third.

“Should I lie down?”

They are alone in the small space and it feels strangely intimate. Curtis clears his throat. “On the floor. Facing up first.”

It’s been ages since he’s performed a full body massage and the captain’s frame is not exactly light to manoeuvre. By the time he’s reached the end of his sequence, he’s sweaty and slightly worn out. Shirogane lies peacefully beneath him, hands pillowed under his face, eyes closed.

“Captain, we’re done.”

He waits a beat. No reply. He squeezes a shoulder and gets a faint hum back. It dawns on him that Shirogane is asleep.

_Right.. don't panic._

He starts to low-key freak out, anyway.

His options are:

(a) leave the man where he is and take his leave,

(b) somehow wake him up,

(c) carry him to bed.

He ends up with a half asleep former paladin hanging off his shoulder. It takes no more than two steps to haul the man onto his bed. Curtis sighs and slowly draws back, letting the heavy body rest on the not so soft single mattress. He sees that contented smile curl across the captain’s face again and it makes his chest hurt just a little. The grey eyes open for a split second, focus on the face above them, before they close once more.

“Hn… my siamese prince…”

* * *

 

After Clear Day, Shirogane becomes tense and distant. Curtis feels slightly stupid for following the man around during the fun fair. Sure it was nice to watch their captain kicking alien asses in the arm wrestling competition, but he’d hoped to get ahold of him somewhere quiet and somehow confront him about what he’d said after the massage. But then he’s with the paladins and everyone is heading back. Hours later, Voltron is launching and there’s a sense of unknown danger in the air.

Curtis tells himself that whatever happened between them is not important now, or probably ever. It was all just sleepy blabbering of an exhausted man, with no connection to reality… or himself. He retreats to his duty, that’s all he can do, for the sake of Earth, the Universe and his Captain.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I thought this chapter would not come so soon, but here it is... I'll just leave it short and sweet.  
> Also thought that since it's just a day late, I'd just add it as a Day 6 (First night together) submission for Curtashi Week of Firsts.  
> Enjoy!

The period of time during which the Atlas is merged with Voltron is one of the strangest in his life. Curtis dimly recalls being encased in a ring of light - of energy - and then having the ground stolen from beneath his feet. They lose visual of the outside world and are stuck in an armoured compartment of some sort, the captain no longer by their side, but somewhere else inside the huge metallic body they are riding.

But more than that loss of control, what is most confusing is the apparent change in the very fabric of reality around them. He has heard all the talk of quintessence and alternate realities during the briefings aboard the Atlas. The captain and the paladins, even Commander Holt and the friendly Altean, seemed unfazed by the outlandish concepts. But he’s never leant towards metaphysics. He listened sceptically and, to a certain extent, believed that once all the cards were laid out, all that they would face was another army, another foe. Fire power and strategy against the same variables on the other side. In this kind of scenario, he would have a part to play - he could be of use. He was wrong.

As the strange battle unfolds, if feels more like a spiritual turmoil than a clash of strengths. There are fragments of that struggle seeping through the physical boundaries of the entities that encase them - Atlas, Voltron - not machines any longer, but abstractions of existence, so powerful yet so hard to grasp. There are different energies interlocked, scattered thoughts, feelings of courage, despair, love, fear… grief. A light goes out but the universe comes back to life.

He was probably passed out for some time, because he can’t recall going through the transformation back to Atlas’ spaceship form, nor the separation from Voltron.

When his eyes come back to focus, he's lying on the floor near his console.

“Veronica, can you hear me? Iverson, take her to the med bay. Curtis?”

He lifts his head. It feels heavy, but he’s not injured, just sort of stunned.

“I’m ok,” he replies, but the captain is already by his side, helping him up.

“We need to stabilise the ship. Stay with me. We set course for Altea.”

He looks straight ahead through the glass. A new, beautiful planet, so much like Earth, before his eyes.

The lions go ahead to scout the new planet while the Atlas slowly brings itself back together. Most of the crew has been knocked unconscious during the fight. The few that manage to bounce back quickly lead the efforts of accounting for everyone and providing the necessary assistance. The captain has him work from the main console, standing by his side. Once again, Curtis feels dwarfed by the man, by the sheer strength that emanates from him, the calm amid the chaos. He locks all his focus on the controls, on playing his small part supporting the captain the best he can.

“Sir, incoming transmission from the black lion.”

“Go ahead.”

 _“Shiro,”_ the young paladin starts, the familiar name falling easily from his lips, _“reconnaissance completed. The planet issafe. Are we clear to land?”_

“Proceed with caution,” the commanding voice says, before it turns a notch more vulnerable, “Keith, stay close to Lance for now. He needs all the support we can give him. I’ll find Coran as soon as we land… I can’t imagine how he’s going to feel when he finds out…”

_“Shiro, you've got this, and we’ve got you. See you in Altea.”_

The transmission ends and the captain’s shoulders slump. He breathes and collects himself. Curtis catches an unguarded smile that lingers for less than a second. The young paladin’s piercing gaze, the easy reassurance in his voice, remain in his mind, and something uncomfortable takes seat in his stomach.

* * *

 

Their days in Altea are strange. The crew is assigned some tasks in preparation for the building of a shelter, and some further reconnaissance missions, but mostly they are allowed to rest. The former Voltron group is seldom seen among the others. A few times, Curtis spots the captain, but never does he gather the courage to approach him. He feels like a nobody when compared to the other paladins and their inner circle. He does his job, he ventures on some hikes, with some other crew members or by himself. The planet is beautiful - green and unspoilt, diverse in both botanical and animal life. He hopes it will be ruled wisely, so that all this beauty can be preserved.

One evening he sees the captain walking way from camp together with the paladin of the black lion. They thread close to one another, speaking in low voices. They don’t return until the next morning. He is hit with the realisation that the reason why this bothers him is that he was starting to have feelings for the captain - feelings that are unrequited. In any case, witnessing the scene is a fitting closure to the tension that had built up during the past months. He decides to let go of any expectations he'd had. That night, he drowns his heartbreak in the clear starry sky, in the fresh wind and the unfamiliar smells - sweet and floral and something completely foreign. Maybe he’s finally starting to believe in magic.

After he’s come to terms with his feelings it becomes easier to attend team meetings. He accepts a promotion and an invitation to continue aboard the Atlas in subsequent missions, after their return to Earth. He feels his wits returning and, with then, the confidence he’d always had in himself, in the little speck of cosmic dust he is - an awareness that never stopped him from living the best life he possibly could.

* * *

 

On their very last day in Altea, before their departure, he finds the captain sitting alone atop a low hill, surrounded by red juniberry flowers. It’s close to sunset and there’s a chill wind blowing. Curtis climbs the hill, drawn to the man and his posture of quiet contemplation, but once he comes near him he stills, not sure what he's doing, not wanting to be a nuisance. He is quickly discovered by the seasoned soldier.

“Curtis… take a seat.”

He pats the grass beside him and Curtis follows the instruction. Between them, the Altean arm lies lifeless.

“Captain, your arm…”

His gaze is drawn to the man’s other hand - the human one - a small crystal pressed between his thumb and index.

“Can you believe it? A small stone can make this piece of metal come to life?”

“It’s amazing, Sir.”

Shirogane gives him a little smile.

“I haven’t seen much of you lately. What have you been up to?”

“Well, you know, just keeping busy.”

“I’ve missed your hands...”

Their eyes meet, the captain chuckles.

“Sorry, this must be weird, coming from me.”

“No, Sir, it’s fine…”

“I’m glad you came up here. We’ll be stuck together in the same room again for months and I haven’t been completely honest with you… I think I’ve been chickening out…”

“Sir?”

“I’m attracted to you, Curtis. I’ve been, for a while. I really like your eyes, your skin, your voice… Knowing what your hands can do to my body only made it harder for me not to think of you that way…”

His jaw drops. The captain’s voice is low, a seductive murmur that does things to his ability to control himself.

“I know this is inappropriate and that’s why I’ve been wanting to tell you honestly how I feel, before I end up dragging you into any uncomfortable situation. So, I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’ll do my best to control myself until we reach Earth and then we can discuss the next steps. Your promotion is irrevocable, of course, and if you are not comfortable being with me on the bridge on future missions, I’m sure we can reach an acceptable solution.”

_No, no. What is he saying?_

Curtis doesn’t want to be anywhere other than by the captain’s side. Why does he want to push him away? Is it wrong to feel the way he… - _they_ \- feel?

“Well, that was it. I’m sorry you had to hear this. I’ll go get some food.”

Shirogane pops the small crystal into its compartment and the arm goes back to hovering next to his body. He uses it to push himself up.

No. Curtis can't let him go, not after what he's said, not without clearing the misunderstanding on both sides. It's a spur of the moment thing and he might regret it, but his hand shoots forward, dragging his body along, it catches the tips of metallic fingers, then a strangely warm palm, and holds it firmly.

“Curtis?”

He takes a deep breath, makes himself stand, still holding onto the hovering hand.

“Shiro.”

* * *

 

Shiro walks him to the edge of camp. They’ve been staying overnight in the Atlas, for safety, but the captain has a tent in the field, that he’s used as an office and meeting room. No one comes here this late, so they have some privacy.

They face each other in the semi-darkness, hands joined on both sides. Curtis is a little taller, so he angles his face down. At the same time, Shiro lifts his chin and closes his eyes. Curtis takes the final step and kisses him. He will later consider whether he should have gone for something softer, but the truth is, with the hunger that’s been building up between them, none would really be satisfied with that. Instead, he kisses Shiro with all the fire that rages inside him. His left hand rakes over soft silver hair and the other pulls a solid waist against his own. Shiro, he notices, has no fight left in him. He wraps his arms around Curtis’s neck and lets himself be led through this thing he started.

When they part he can see warmth in Shiro’s attractive grey eyes. He feels a mismatched pair of hands caress both his cheeks. He smiles. He’s very happy, giddy, and unbelievably horny… and to think that he was ready to give all this up not even an hour ago.

“I thought you liked someone else… I saw you leave the camp together.”

He regrets it the moment the words leave his mouth. It will surely ruin the moment. Shiro just chuckles.

“I was secretly hoping you’d notice that." His tone is playful, he even winks, but then his voice becomes serious, his expression open and earnest. “Keith and I needed that night out there on our own, but it’s not what you think. I’ll tell you the whole story some day. Now that things are calmer, I hope we’ll have time to get to know each other, to open up about our past and become closer, but for now I just ask you to give me the benefit of the doubt. I’m not toying with you, Curtis.”

Curtis nods and closes his eyes. This time it's Shiro who initiates the kiss. They take it slowly, sensually. The moment their hands slip beneath uniform shirts, they know things will not stop at that.

“I have nothing on me,” Shiro says. “How do you even buy condoms in space?”

“We’ll have to make do,” Curtis replies, and drops down to his knees.

They take turns giving each other pleasure. Once sated, they lay side by side on the soft grass, fingers interlaced between them. They kiss again, softly now, reverently.

“We should go back.”

“A little bit longer,” Shiro whispers. Curtis turns on his side and wraps the other arm around the man’s waist, kisses his forehead.

“I hope we can make this work, Curtis, I really do.”

“Me too. We had our first time in a newborn planet. What can be a better omen?”

Shiro laughs and the sound rings in his ears like clear spring water. How can it be so easy - to fall in love?


End file.
